❝You play with fire because you want to get burnt.❞
Ever since she was a child, Roseanne Song liked to play with fire. She enjoyed the warmth it spread, how the flames would lick the tips of her fingers as the match became smaller. After the deat...
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THE METALLIC TASTE of blood was strong on her tongue, dancing at the edge of her teeth and pushing its way through her lips. She spat at the dead leaves on the forest floor, then let her eyes wander up to the male in front of her. He breathed hard, sun-kissed skin glistening with sweat from the fire in the centre of the grand circle. She admired him, the fast image of them twisting between the sheets the night before quickly appearing in her mind. The way he had said her name over and over again rang in her ears, almost like a lullaby.
"Come on, Rose," he purred, circling around her. The way he had said her name caused a shiver to run up her spine. "Hit me." He wiped the blood from his bottom lip with his thumb, then set his hand into a fist once again.
Her eyes focused on the blood that decorated part of his skin, the red splotches that would become bruises by the time the sun came up. She had done that to him. All the bruises, all the blood, all the red that decorated him—it was all done by her. And it thrilled her.
"Tempting," she breathed, licking her top lip.
"Hit me." He took one step closer to her. "That's what this night is all about, for you to hit me."
She looked him over, a ghost of a smirk appearing on her lips. "We could have done that somewhere else, Reese." She tilted her head slightly to the side, the smirk becoming larger.
Reese's lips spread to the left, eyes twinkling with pure mischief. "Wouldn't you love that, Rose?"
Roseanne Song let a chuckle rumble out of her chest. "Oh, we both know how much you enjoy a crowd."
There was laughter around them. It slithered through the ground and bit onto Roseanne's ankle, taking home in her veins. To her, nothing felt better than the attention she received.
"Enough flirting," a deep voice joined. "This night is not for flirting. You can do that when we get back to the house. "
Roseanne's eyes wandered towards the owner of the voice. A tall male sat on the highest log—a king on his throne. Shadows danced on his face, making him look more deadly than he actually was. Nemiah Hodge was a terrifying and deadly male, with broad shoulders and a jaw that appeared eternally clenched. He was the alpha. A true alpha. The way he stood, the way he moved, the way he spoke—it was as if a commander had taken over in the midst of a battle.
The thud was clear in her ears, and she could hear it.
The sound wasn't the thud of an old heart hitting the ground, but her back landing against the rotting leaves on the forest ground. Her breath left her chest with a sudden gasp. Pain pushed through her back as a rock dug onto her shoulder blade, a pointy end breaking skin. She would heal fast, she knew, but the pain would still be there until it did. A groan escaped her mouth as her eyes focused on the figure on top of her. It was Reese, with his wicked mouth spread into an open-mouthed smirk.
